


The Cafeteria Food at Ebott University (And Other Unfixable Atrocities)

by renwhit



Category: Undertale
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Grillby and Muffet have a passive aggressive oneupmanship but it's fine, M/M, Slow Burn, alcohol use in chapter 6, terrible terrible puns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:52:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renwhit/pseuds/renwhit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grillby doesn't think he can handle another disgusting meal provided by the EU food courts. Luckily, he has a solution.<br/>(Slow burn sansby, college au!)</p>
<p>(indefinite hiatus)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I know, I know, i should be working on hellfire. Chapter 4 is kind of stressing me out, though, and this one came a lot easier. There won't be any kind of schedule for this, I'll just write more to relax. Hope you like it!

Grillby had a problem.

 

The problem was that the food in every single one of the food courts was absolutely disgusting. The salads were greasy, the meats were gristly, and the soups had the consistency of slime. As a culinary major, it felt like a personal offense every time he choked down what was only a burger in name. 

 

He'd love to go pick up food somewhere else, but that was expensive and time-consuming, two banes of the average college student. Plus, there were the poor freshman to think about, who couldn't even have cars on campus.

 

Not as if Grillby had a nice car to speak of. He had a beat-up red station wagon that still had flecks of yellow and orange paint on the side from high school. Someone had chosen to paint flames on the sides. Four separate times.

 

It was this shitty, only-started-up-a-quarter-of-the-time car he was sitting in when he made a decision. It was a huge decision. An astronomical one. One that was against many, many rules.

 

The food was bad, and he needed cash. Really, what was a culinary student to do?

 

He'd make some good goddamn food, and he'd sell it to the students that deserved much better than the sludge provided at Ebott University. 

 

His roommate Muffet would be proud of him.

 

\--- 

 

First, he needed some business advice.

 

When he went to work that evening, at a dive called the Underground, he ran his plan by the old bartender Gerson.

 

"Well, kiddo," he said, despite Grillby being 21. "Ya gotta know your customers. Sounds like you guys are gettin' a little desperate for good food, so if you can make it, you can get a pretty penny by charging through the roof."

 

Grillby should introduce him to Muffet. Seems like they'd get along.

 

"But you also gotta make sure that the food is what all the other kids want. Stuff they can take to class or eat while they're walking. You're one of those kiddos, you know how everyone is always going, going, going, yeah?"

 

Grillby nodded, flame crackling thoughtfully. "Fries." College kids loved fries.

 

"What?"

 

"Hot french fries."

 

He was going to be rich.

 

\---

 

When he got back to his tiny house, Muffet was busy. 

 

Well, she was always busy. You could get a lot done with six arms.

 

She was shouting at a cooking show on the beat up television, and one hand was painting another's nails, and stirring apples in some kind of cinnamon sauce with another two, and kneading bread dough with the last.

 

Muffet was very good at multitasking.

 

"Professor Hardass gave me an B on my soufflés!" she crowed as soon as she noticed him.

 

"That's no way to refer to Professor River," Grillby chided as he hung up his coat. "Also, they gave me an A."

 

"No," she breathed, frozen. "There is _no_ way Hardass gave you an _A!_ "

 

He shrugged, barely keeping a straight face. "I guess that means I'm better at soufflés."

 

Muffet turned back to the television, stirring her apples aggressively. A few flew out of the bowl and landed on the floor. "Oh, it is _on_ , dearie. I'm going to _crush_ you."

 

He refrained from making an obvious spider joke. He wasn't that tasteless. Instead, he brought up something far more important. 

 

"I'm starting a business."

 

Muffet stilled. Slowly, slowly, a spidery smile crept across her face. "You're starting a business... And you didn't tell _me_."

 

"You were the first person I told. Well, second."

 

"Second?" She still had that sugary smile.

 

"I just happened to see Gerson first. Anyway, that isn't important. Do you still have that miniature deep friar?"

 

"Of course, dearie, in the cabinet next to the oven. I need to make doughnuts somehow, yes? Why?"

 

"I'm sure you're aware how terrible the food here is."

 

Her face screwed up. "It's atrocious. I'd rather cook the whole school food than eat more of their garbage."

 

"Well... That's kind of what I'm going to do."

 

" _What?_ "

 

"Fries. I'm going to get an insulated bag, fill it with fries, and sell them to students. I'll need your help."

 

She regarded him. "With what?"

 

"You're a business major. You know more about all this than I do."

 

"Hm." She thought quietly for a moment, blowing on her freshly painted nails. "If you sell my spider doughnuts along with your fries once a week, and pay a minor... consultants fee, I'd be happy to help."

 

Grillby looked at her warily. "How minor?"

 

She laughed. "Just cover gas money, dear. I'm sure that will be sufficient."

 

Gas money? He already hated paying his own, but with her advice, he would hopefully make enough to easily cover it. "It's a deal."

 

Muffet grinned, revealing all her sharp teeth. "Pleasure doing business with you.

 

\---

 

He had the food plan, he had someone to help him with the business side, now all he needed was to get the word out. He knew exactly who could help him with that.

 

"So, I'm your messanger?" Sans asked, sprawled across a chair in the librarby. "Why's that?"

 

"I'd be shocked if anyone in this school didn't know who you were, especially after the whoopie cushion incident last year."

 

Their sophomore year, a whoopie cushion had somehow ended up on every single chair in the school. They weren't simply laid on top, however. Some were painted the exact color of the chair. Some were sewn into chair linings. Sometimes, you'd look down at what seemed like a safe place to sit, only to have one simply _appear_ right as you sat. Everyone knew Sans had done it. No one could prove it. No one even knew how he had accomplished it. He wasn't telling.

 

Sans laughed loudly at the memory. Shushes echoed across the library in response. "Heheh, that was pretty memorable. Alright, I can get the word out. Not gonna do it for free though."

 

Grillby sighed. He knew this was coming. "What do you want?"

 

"Free fries for the rest of my natural life, or graduation, whichever comes first. Finals might kill me."

 

"Absolutely not. This is a business. Well, hopefully."

 

"One free basket of fries for every five sales."

 

"Ten."

 

"Done."

 

They shook on it, bone against flame. Sans grinned at him, like usual, and ducked behind his book again. Was that... a quantum physics textbook?

 

"Those fries better be pretty goddamn good."

 

"Oh, don't worry." He hated leaving on a cliche, but he couldn't let the perfect dramatic moment pass by. "They will be."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby starts selling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I finally got some steam on my other fic so ive been pretty focused on that lately. Thought this one deserved an update though :0

Grillby had made investments. He bought an insulated backpack meant for picnics, plenty of oil, and about six bags of potatoes. 

 

He was halfway through the potatos, oil bubbling and fire magic cheerfully flickering beneath it, when he paused.

 

What the fuck was he doing?

 

The room smelled like salt and grease and bad decisions. Muffet looked up from the couch, probably tasting easily-exploitable emotions in the air, and saw him frozen. "Dearie... What are you doing?"

 

He shook his head. Potatoes sizzled in the frier. "What _am_ I doing? Seriously, what the hell am I doing? Why am I doing this? This is a waste of time and money and I'm just going to look like an idiot with a bag full of french fries wandering around on campus-"

 

Muffet moved off the couch towards him. Two of her hands rested gently on his shoulders. Another used a spatula to remove the near-burnt fries from the frier. A fourth reach up and carefully, carefully, slapped him full across the face.

 

" _Please_ try to pull yourself together, dear. I don't think I can handle another breakdown." They both shuddered at the thought of last midterms. He didn't think his bed would ever stop smelling like marshmallows. "You'll be _fine_ , alright? We've discussed how, one, the food here is terrible and, two, how your food is... not terrible."

 

"Not terrible. How comforting."

 

Muffet rolled her eyes. With five of them, she was quite good at it. "Fine, fine. You're a _good_ cook, Grillby. People will buy and enjoy your food, and they'll tell their friends, who will come and buy, and _they'll_ spread the word, et cetera et cetera. It'll start slow, yes, but monopolies aren't built in a day."

 

He snorted. "Grillby, monopolizer of the french fry industry."

 

"We all need goals," she laughed back. "Now, are you feeling better?"

 

"Yes. I should probably get back to this, though, so I can study for psychology. And do my French homework." 

 

"Tch. You can't do one of those and cook?"

 

"I only have two hands, Muffet."

 

She rolled her eyes again, then walked off, returning with a stack of notes and a book. "Read these, and tell me when to flip to the next page," she said, holding up the first page and cracking open her trashy romance novel. 

 

The next hour passed in the same way, as Grillby cook and seasoned and learned about confirmation bias, and Muffet read and snickered and flipped pages. It was quiet and calm, the kind of scene that would be cut into a movie montage. 

 

As it grew to be close to lunch time, he finally decided he was finished. He had fries, he had little cardboard baskets to give them out in, and he had Muffet to knock some sense into him when he started to doubt himself. He was ready.

 

He left the bag half unzipped, so the smell of salt and grease would attract hungry students.

 

Time to go.

 

\---

 

It took exactly three minutes for someone to come up to and ask if he had food like they'd heard. Two someones, actually: Catty and Bratty, a cat and crocodile that Grillby was fairly certain used nicknames so their names matched.

 

"So, like," Catty began. 

 

"We heard," Bratty continued.

 

"That you have food!!" they chorusd together.

 

"Because we're hungry as hell!" Catty finished. 

 

Wordlessly, Grillby fully unzipped his bag. Golden, crisp fries sang with the promise of delicious flavor and clogged arteries. Far around the quad, students' head swiveled, attracted to the scent of grease like moths to a whimsun.

 

With some careful manuvering, he worked two cardboard boats out of his backpack. Before filling them, however, he paused. "Each basket is three dollars."

 

The two before him exchanged a look. It took only a moment before they made their decision. Six dollars were thrust his way in impatient hands, and before long both Catty and Bratty were near inhaling their shares.

 

"Ooooooooh my god," Bratty mumbled around a mouthful. Catty wordlessly nodded in agreement.

 

"It's been so _awful_ eating all that, it's like they're feeding us stuff they found in the _garbage!!_ " she managed when she swallowed. "Did you find some better garbage or something?"

 

"No, I made them myself." He could feel his flame go a little blue at their praise.

 

They both looked at him for a moment, then Bratty gripped his arm. "Oh my god. _Please_ tell me you'll have these every day."

 

"I was going for every other day, I believe. There will be spider donuts made by Muffet on Fridays as well."

 

Catty almost swooned. "Fries and donuts... Mmm... Oh! You should make burgers too! Or-"

 

"One step at a time," Grillby said, a little overwhelmed by the intensely positive response. 

 

"Hey, uh." A blue bunny monster tapped him on the shoulder. "Are you selling food?"

 

All at once, he was mobbed. About ten students came up after, babbling about getting their share and _god this is delicious_ and _how much was it again?_

 

As quickly as they appeared, they were gone, with full bellies and lighter wallets. One group of students saved from EU's lunches.

 

"Of to a good start, huh?" Grillby heard from behind him. It was Sans, making his lazy way towards him. "Hey, wasn't I promised free fries if I did my job?"

 

Grillby shook his head exasperatedly, but pulled out another basket all the same. Sans grabbed it with a wide grin, then paused. "Got any ketchup?"

 

How the hell did he forget condiments? "Ah, no. Sorry."

 

"Heheh. S'alright. Next time, though, bring it and we can eat some fries while we _ketchup_."

 

Silence.

 

"Ketchup? Catch up? Yeah?"

 

Grillby couldn't hold it in any more. He burst into laughter, quiet to most but huge compared to his normal volume. Sans looked incredibly self-satisfied. 

 

"Didn't know you relished puns, Grillbz." 

 

Grillby laughed harder, face in his hands. 

 

"C'mon, you mustard that one by now."

 

He gripped Sans's shoulder desperately, still laughing. "Stop, before you really get started. I need to get to class soon, I'm supposed to be on the other side of campus." Looking up, Sans's cheekbones were gently dusted blue. 

 

"Heheh, alright. See ya later, Grillby."

 

"Bye, Sans." 

 

Grillby walked off. Had he turned back, he would have seen Sans with a hand on his shoulder, wide eyed. He didn't turn back, however. Rather, he mentally added ketchup to his grocery list, and pulled out his phone to look up potato-based puns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, i know, its short. Ive been sitting on this a while, though, I just needed to wrap it up. Remember, im totally open for suggestions in this fic! There ar so many places it can go and i have very little in the way of a plan, so dont be afraid to send me ideas !!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby and the squad. Someone draw one of those "draw the squad like" things. Grillby better be wearing shades in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sticks m leg in the air*

His budding business sprouted in to a beautiful french fry enterprise within the week. 

 

"Wouldn't that just be a potato plant?" Gerson asked when Grillby shared the analogy.

 

"These are more than just potatoes, buddy," Sans said from the bar. "These are perfection."

 

Even his professors enjoyed the food. Toriel had shaken her head disapprovingly in his Pastries class, probably thinking of all the rules he was breaking. In the end, she ate them anyway, calling them _spudly_ and insisting it was a portmanteau of spud and lovely. In Chemistry, Gaster chided him about lab safety and rules against food in the lab, but bought two baskets anyway. Even Asgore, president of the university, got quite a bit of salt on his sweater in his haste as he ate them. 

 

Muffet seemed pleased as punch when her donuts got a similarly positive reaction, though she played it off easily.

 

"Ah, well, I expected to do this well, of course," she said with a little laugh as she counted her profits. Grillby didn't tell her he saw how relieved she looked that night when writing her usual monthly check to her family. Any possible unshed tears were similarly ignored; she wouldn't be happy if she knew he saw. Their respective home lives generally went undiscussed, but he knew that her intense ambition and financial focus weren't solely greed.

 

But he digressed.

 

With his extra money, he felt a little frivolous, and decided to treat some friends to lunch. He invited Sans and Muffet (who had turned him down, with an exam coming up, she needed to study.) He told Sans to bring Papyrus, who brought Undyne, who brought Alphys, who brought Mettaton, who had to be restrained from bringing the rest of the school. As a popular theater major, he knew most people. Suddenly, a small gathering turned to quite the excursion.

 

They were going somewhere cheap, obviously: a little diner near Gerson's bar. He wanted to treat his friends (and acquaintances, apparently), but he wasn't ridiculous.

 

Waitresses and cooks alike sighed heavily as the group came in, bell on the door ringing noisily. They were used to having to feed hungry college students, but none were pleased about a group of six, especially six where two had no concept of indoor voices, one was chronic prankster, and one needed attention at all times, from as many people as possible.

 

Certainly, they would be the most lively group of the day. 

 

Grillby sat between Mettaton and Undyne, doing his best to ignore the cow eyes Undyne and Alphys were giving each other when the other wasn't looking. It wasn't his business. He also noticed a tiny flash that may have been Sans unscrewing the lids to every salt shaker and ketchup bottle on the table, but it was hard to be sure. Papyrus animatedly described to Mettaton his troubles in declaring a major, as a freshman taking as many classes as his schedule allowed. Meanwhile, Mettaton snapchatted. And texted. And probably recorded a vlog in there somewhere. 

 

A rowdy bunch, they certainly were.

 

After they all ordered, there was a bit of a silence. They all knew each other, but it was tangential. Grillby knew Sans knew Papyrus knew Undyne knew Alphys knew Mettaton. 

 

Sans broke the quiet. "So, uh, how about that sports team?"

 

"O-oh, yeah, I'm a big fan of those sports!" Alphys immediately shrank down in her chair, as if regretting saying anything, but Undyne was cackling. 

 

"Oh my _god_ , you guys! Do you even know what our school mascot is?"

 

Alphys bit her lip in contemplation. "Um... Is it-"

 

"The skeletons!" Papyrus burst. "And one day, I will be the mascot!"

 

"Uh, bro, it's not the skeletons."

 

"Well then it should be! Who wouldn't want a cool skeleton representing them?" Papyrus's shirt made his point: it read _cool cat_ , except the word cat was crossed out and replaced with the word _skeleton_. 

 

"Oh, or Mettaton! You like acting, right? You could be a mascot too, maybe even as good as me!" he continued.

 

Mettaton laughed. "Oh, darling, I prefer my acts to stay on a stage. Anyway, I do hate showing people up." The competitive gleam in his eye countered his words.

 

"We're just the Monsters, yes?" Grillby asked. A monster-only university, plus a history of presidents who were bad at naming things, led to quite a few uncreative names. Ebott University, situated on Mount Ebott. Honestly.

 

"Exactly!" shouted Undyne. "How the hell do you forget that?"

 

Sans shrugged with a grin. "When you have to remember as many bullshit equations as Alphys and I, stuff like that kinda takes a back seat."

 

" _We're literally just the Monsters!_ " 

 

The waiter came up to their table, looking tired as hell. "Here's your food."

 

"Burgerpants, darling! I didn't know you worked here!" Mettaton smiled a little too widely.

 

The poor cat's eye twitched. "That's not my name."

 

Grillby tried to look at his name tag to see what his name actually was, but whatever had been there was heavily scribbled out, replaced with _Burgerpants_ in glittery silver gel pen. 

 

"Would you prefer I call you-"

 

"No. Don't. Whatever you're going to say, I don't want to hear it. Absolutely not. Please, just take your food."

 

Plates were quickly passed out, and all words were replaced with the sound of them near inhaling their food. Even Mettaton, who didn't need to eat, couldn't resist the allure of food being paid for by someone else. 

 

As Papyrus ate his (apparently sub-par) spaghetti, Sans leaned over to him, a familiar look in his eye.

 

"Hey, Papyrus, you hear about that Italian chef who died?"

 

Papyrus looked genuinely concerned. "No! What happened?"

 

"Yeah, he pasta way in the night."

 

Grillby snorted, and Sans looked pleased. Papyrus, on the other hand, was far from that. 

 

"Sans, I am trying to eat, and your terrible puns are not helping!"

 

"Yes, it was quite unfortunate," Grillby said. Papyrus glared at him suspiciously. "Here today, gone tomato." 

 

Papyrus groaned and slid down in his seat. "I cannot believe you are getting your friends into this terrible habit." Despite his words, he was grinning.

 

"Yeah, seems like he ran out of thyme!" Everyone looked at Alphys. "Thyme? L-like the herb?"

 

Undyne burst into roaring laughter and gently punched Alphys's shoulder. "That was terrible! I love it!"

 

Papyrus buried his face in his hands. "Not you too, Undyne!"

 

Mettaton was recording the whole thing, probably for his hundreds of friends on snapchat. 

 

"Alright, alright, we'll chill," Sans said. "'Cept Grillby, of course. Don't think he's ever chilled a day in his life."

 

"Oh, right, fire jokes. I've never heard any of those before, especially not from you," Grillby said drily. 

 

Not-Burgerpants stood impatiently at the head of the table. "Can I give you your check or no? My smoke break is soon."

 

Grillby took the bill as Sans winked at him. "Looks like this is a no-smoke establishment, Grillbz, better watch out."

 

"My fire doesn't give off smoke."

 

"Oh, uh, yikes. This is awkward now."

 

"Ha!" crowed Papyrus. "Your pun fell through! Nyeh heh heh!"

 

Undyne was pulled out of her quiet debate with Alphys about certain anime sequels. "Wait, one of his puns failed? Holy shit, how often does that happen?"

 

Sans started looking mutinous. "They can't all be winners, okay? Anyway, he might not give off smoke, but he sure is smoking."

 

Holy shit. 

 

Grillby and Sans stared at each other for a moment as they both registered what had just been said. Alphys stated squealing at levels only dogs could hear. Mettaton and Undyne both burst into laughter. Papyrus, jaw slack, whipped his gaze between the silent two. 

 

Sans, with a long groan, buried his face in his hands. "I said that out loud, didn't I. God. Thought of it earlier, then thought, _nah, that's weird_ , but apparently my goddamn mouth didn't listen."

 

Flame going a little blue, Grillby laughed. "Sans, it's fine. Now, are we all finished? I believe we've been using this table quite long enough."

 

With no little effort, they all managed to extract themselves from the booth and work out a tip. As they filed out, Mettaton blew kisses to those still inside. Some caught them, some swooned, and Not-Burgerpants rolled his eyes.

 

After emphatically thanking Grillby, they all split up, Alphys and Mettaton, Undyne and Papyrus, headed off in different directions. Before leaving, Sans turned back to Grillby.

 

"Those onion rings I had in there were pretty good, but I think you could do 'em one better. Just saying." With that, he headed off in the opposite direction of the main campus. No doubt he'd somehow show up there before Grillby did.

 

The next day, Grillby bought some onions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember I'm always taking suggestions for things to happen in this!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> time for chapter 4 of this self indulgent bs hell yeah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that these chapters are so short lmfao

The next time Grillby walked to French class, Sans was already there. They'd had French together for three years, and would probably have it together again their senior year as well. Grillby took it because he wanted to study French cuisine right in France. He had no idea why Sans was there, but then he didn't know why Sans did a lot of things.

 

Right when he sat down at his desk next to Sans, for example. They had an oral exam that day, so when Sans asked to practice with him, he was expecting something resembling a sentence. 

 

"Oui oui," Sans said, gesturing wildly. "Hon hon hon. Omelette du fromage." 

 

"I'm not sure that's what you want to present to the professor," Grillby said, but he was laughing.

 

"What're you talking about? That'll get me an A for sure. I am totally fluent in French."

 

"Did you even study for this?" Muffet, who had tested out of French two years ago, had helped Grillby quite a bit.

 

"Nah," Sans said, usual good natured grin in place. "I'll be fine. This is a romance language after all, and I am the king of romance."

 

"Oh, of course. That's why you accidentally make flirtatious puns in front of all your friends."

 

Sans buried his face in his hands, leaning back in his chair. "That was one time, pal. Let me live."

 

The professor quieted them soon after to begin the exam. Everyone was impressed by the number of jokes Sans slipped into his own presentation. Grillby did alright, he believed, though he accidentally conjugated a few words wrong. The rest of the presentations went well - by the third year, everyone in the room actually cared about learning French. In the middle of one, Sans leaned over to Grillby.

 

"Damn, you were good. How many people ask you to speak French between their thighs?"

 

"More than you'd think," Grillby replied, playing along. "But it doesn't always end well. For some reason, people don't find me quietly whispering 'bonjour' particularly arousing."

 

"I dunno, I think I'd - wait, no, stopping now. Cue me placing foot directly in mouth. I am not having that pun situation repeated. Nope."

 

Grillby was sparking from how hard he was trying to contain his laughter. He could see their professor glaring from the front of the room. He did his best to pay attention to the rest of the presentations, but with Sans whispering jokes the whole time, and eventually falling asleep, it was hard to. 

 

As class finished, Grillby readied his bag of food. It was nearing lunch time, and he could see most students starting to edge his way, waiting for him to stand so they could rush him. Before he could, however, he felt Sans tap his shoulder. 

 

"Hey, buddy, pal, amigo..."

 

"Yes, you can have your free fries. I'm not sure if we've reached the agreed upon amount, though."

 

"With the way you're selling? Pshh. No way. Even if that were true, you can put it on my tab or somethin'."

 

"I'm walking around campus selling snacks out of a backpack, I'm not keeping track of a tab."

 

Sans snorted a little. "Eh, probably wouldn't pay it anyway."

 

"At least you're honest," Grillby said, handing over the food. 

 

"Thanks, man." Sans flicked a finger gun at him. "You get ketchup?"

 

Grillby rummaged through one of the side pockets and came up with a few yellow packets. "Only mustard, the ketchup must have all been taken already."

 

"Eh, forgeddaboutit, mustard's alright too. Hey, uh, I was wonderin' if-"

 

Before Grillby could hear the rest of the sentence, the rest of the class lost their patience and rushed him. When he surfaced for air from the crowd, Sans was gone. Had he glanced out the window, he would've seen Sans kicking a tree in frustration, then hopping on one foot while clutching his stubbed toes. He couldn't, though, not beyond the small crowd holding out hands and money. By the time he managed to get every student fed, Sans was long gone.

 

\--

 

Sans was getting frustrated. At a lot of things, really. His physics professor insisted on giving them multiple hours of homework every time they had class. Gaster was being a huge dick and making him live up to his potential or whatever. Papyrus was all pushy about him keeping his job and getting in shape and doing laundry and all that. Grillby... was Grillby. 

 

Sans wasn't sure what it was about him. The broad shoulders were nice, yeah, but they were a lot of people with broad shoulders. The soft way he spoke was sweet, with all kinds of dry humor, but that wasn't a huge deal or anything. His hands were warm and gentle, but it's easy to feel warm compared to cold bones. 

 

It was the food. Had to be. Obviously.

 

It wasn't like he'd been feeling this way since freshman year French I. It wasn't like Sans had stumbled over words and made accidental puns after only knowing Grillby a week. It wasn't like he'd caught himself staring at Grillby's frankly magnificent ass multiple times. None of that. Nope. Definitely the fries. 

 

Sans was mostly frustrated with himself, to be honest. He and Grillby saw each other all the time, from the bar to French to just passing each other on campus. He knew Grillby just thought of him as a friend, but it'd be nice to hang out just the two of them sometime. Like bros. Pals. Good platonic friends. Yep, that'd be fine. There was no way that could go poorly at all.

 

He let out a long, obnoxious groan as he let himself into his house. God, who was he kidding? Every minute he spent with that hot asshole was another minute he fell deeper in crush with him. Fuck.

 

"Y-you okay, Sans?" asked Alphys, peeking around the corner leading to their shared living room. No doubt she'd been there for hours with nothing but shit anime and ramen to keep her company. Ahh, the healthy habits of the heavily depressed college student. He could relate.

 

He stumbled into the living room and collapsed face down onto the gritty carpet. When was the last time they vacuumed? 

 

"Have you ever stopped and thought, _god, I'm super fuckin' gay for this person who'll never like me back?_ "

 

Alphys sank down into the mass of blankets on the couch, sighing. "Yeah, a-all the time."

 

Sans rolled over. "I mean," he started, waving his hands in the air. "It wouldn't be so bad if he was an asshole, who just happened to be hot. Then I could appreciate his ass from a distance. But no. He had to go and be _nice_ and _funny_ and _really, really hot._ "

 

"Yeah, I-I can relate. Just gotta remember, there's plenty of fish in the sea, right?" She gave him a grin that was probably supposed to be encouraging, but only made her look nauseous. 

 

'Fish in the sea'. Amazing. He could make some great puns from that about exactly what fish, but then she'd get embarrassed and stop talking, and they had a good thing going here.

 

"There's lots of fish in this metaphorical ocean of bullshit and recklessness and energy drinks mixed with coffee, but I just want this one fish, ya know?"

 

She slid off the couch to join him on the floor. Together, they stared at the spiderweb of cracks on the ceiling, and Sans wondered absently if he'd remembered to pay the electricity bill. "J-just have to keep fishing, I guess."

 

They laid on the floor for a while. Too bad Napstablook wasn't there, then they could really get the whole "laying on the floor and feeling like garbage" party started.

 

This party sucked. No balloons or anything. Just existentialism and sleeplessness. 

 

Neither of them really had the motivation to get up, so they just laid on the floor and chatted for a bit. After an hour or so, they dragged themselves onto the couch to watch some anime. Both of them knew they wouldn't be getting anything done that night, but they were up, and they ate dinner, and they were together. Better than some other days. 

 

The next day, Sans found a little note slipped under his door. It was a cute chibi sketch of himself and Grillby, with " _Go catch your fish!! \\\\(⌒ｏ⌒)//_ " written beneath it.

 

Note safely tacked to the wall, Sans decided to pay for tonight's takeout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise sans pov hello  
> always taking suggestions :0


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright I swear to god chapter 9 of hellfire is coming but I got a lot of inspiration for this chapter so here it is lmfao

When Sans came up to Grillby, grim-faced, and said only, "We need to talk," Grillby assumed the worst.

 

Sans let him through a dizzying maze of alleys and other shortcuts until they were at the Underground. Gerson gave them a nod from behind the counter as he shuffled about to fill orders for those at the bar. Sans didn't respond, simply went to one of the booths. Grillby slid in across from him, slightly nervous. What could Sans want?

 

He wasn't talking, either. His hands were folded and pressed to his mouth, and his eyes were narrow. Considering. 

 

Grillby shifted in his seat. Maybe he'd done something wrong.

 

"Grillby?"

 

The air was heavy and smokey, and the room was dim, despite the bright daylight outside.

 

"Yes, Sans?"

 

Sans took a deep breath. Grillby couldn't for the life of him imagine why, with Sans's lack of lungs.

 

"Say I wanted to start a hot dog stand. How would I do that?"

 

What.

 

"...........What."

 

"No, no, hear me out. So, I'm supposed to be selling tickets for the spring musical, right? Got me an official table and everything. But if I just _happened_ to sell some 'dogs, how would I get away with it."

 

Well. He hadn't been expecting this. 

 

"Ah..... Well, it seems to help that people enjoy my food. Not even the professors want to tell me to stop, since they enjoy it. Technically, it breaks quite a few rules, but they're willing to turn a blind eye."

 

"So make sure they're great and they won't bother dogging me about it?"

 

Grillby rubbed his temple with one hand. "No, Sans. They won't 'dog' you about it."

 

"Heheh, alright. Anything else for me?"

 

"I would say to stay subtle about it, but I lost control of that within the week. Just, don't draw too much attention, yes?"

 

"Sure, sure. I got this. Anyway, uh, Alphys is expecting me back to cram for a physics test soon, so I gotta run. See ya, Grillbz."

 

Sans winked and vanished out the door, leaving Grillby bemusedly at the table, alone.

 

\---

 

It seemed that entering their house loudly groaning was becoming routine for Sans. Alphys came from down the hall, dressed and with a pencil still in hand. 

 

"Uh, Sans?" 

 

"I was gonna do it. I swear to god I was going to ask him out. Catch a movie or something." Sans moved to the kitchen, pulling a bag of chips from the fridge. "But then, he was looking at me and his fire got a little blue and I panicked and now I'm running a hot dog stand."

 

"A... Hot dog stand?"

 

Sans gave her a weak grin. "D'you think Mettaton will mind if I'm repurposing his ticket table as long as he gets a Chicago style?"

 

"Oh my god, _Sans._ " Alphys started laughing despite herself. "I think as long as you think you can do b-both you'll be okay."

 

He winked, leaning against the counter. "I've been juggling jobs since Papyrus was born, I'll be fine."

 

"A-and the, um, _situation_ with Grillby?" she asked, taking a seat at the table.

 

Grin slipping, Sans sighed. "I'll, uh, I'll figure it out."

 

"Figure it o-out, hm?" She was giving him a _look_.

 

Chip bag empty, he crumpled it up and tossed it towards the trash can. He missed by about two feet. "Alright, how about this. I'll ask out Grillby if you try to catch a certain fish yourself."

 

"I-I, um, I..." She blushed bright yellow, and looked an inch away from sliding off her chair.

 

He knew that he'd be there all day if he waited for a definite answer. "Ah, well, we'll do it eventually." He waved a noncommittal hand in the air. "Go us."

 

She laughed a little. "Hey, w-wanna play Animal Crossing for the next few hours?"

 

Sans pulled his DS out of his hoodie pocket. "Thought you'd never ask."

 

\---

 

When Grillby walked by the theater a few days later, Sans was cajoling an irritated Mettaton. 

 

"Look. Buddy. Pal. I'm selling the tickets too, people just get a free hot dog with it. You'll be sold out in no time."

 

"Darling, I would _prefer_ it if people bought tickets because they appreciate theater, not because they want one of your... Hot dogs."

 

Sans leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet onto this table. "This one's a hot cat, actually."

 

Two manicured fingers pressed to his temple, Mettaton groaned. "Semantics, dear. The point is-" 

 

"Oh, hey, look at that," Sans called, noticing Grillby's arrival. "Looks like we have a customer."

 

Mettaton sighed dramatically. "I have to be to my Cosmetics class, but I can assure you that this isn't over."

 

He stalked off, leaving the scent of cherries and a hint of machine oil in his wake.

 

"You know," Grillby said as he came over. "When I said 'don't draw too much attention,' that would include incurring the wrath of one of the most popular students."

 

Sans shrugged with a wink. "Eh, he'll feel better once he actually eats one of my 'dogs."

 

"How's business, then?" Grillby asked conversationally, leaning against the table. 

 

The card table that Sans was using for a stand.

 

The _flimsy_ card table.

 

It wouldn't have been a problem, usually. But Grillby was tired. He'd come from the other side of campus, so he leaned a little more heavily than he would've normally, and a tired old screw finally stripped. With one final wobble, the whole table collapsed to the side, condiments and tickets flying.

 

Grillby's only thought was, _"I hope ketchup doesn't get on my shirt."_

 

He was jolted out of his wardrobe concerns when he was caught. Not by the concrete sidewalk or an ocean of mustard, but by solid bones and a gentle blue light.

 

Sans had caught him. Huh. 

 

His left eye glowing a soft blue, he looked about as shocked as Grillby felt. 

 

_I wonder what it would be like to kiss him._

 

Wait. Where the hell had that come from?

 

Suddenly, someone wolf whistled. It was Undyne, signature grin in place and winking as best she could with one eye.

 

Grillby jerked upright, with a little help from Sans's hands and a small fizz of magic. Undyne gave them one more attempt at a wink, then headed off, phone already out and texting.

 

She was probably telling Papyrus. Alphys, too. 

 

He and Sans looked at each other, then away, then back again. 

 

"I should probably-" Sans started.

 

"I need to be-" Grillby said at the same time.

 

"Yeah, yeah, no I-"

 

"I hope it's okay that-"

 

"No, you're-"

 

"Do you need me to-"

 

"It's fine, I'll clean up," Sans finally managed. Grillby had the sneaking suspicion that the mess would be taken through one of Sans's "shortcuts" and end up on the roof of one of the buildings. Maybe in a vent, depending on how Sans was feeling.

 

Grillby cleared his throat. "Alright, well, I should be off. I have Professor River next, you know how they are." He laughed awkwardly, suddenly realizing Sans would have no idea who that is. 

 

He left quickly. He didn't, however, have River as soon as he implied. Rather, he knew he was going to spend the next hour at home, thinking hard about what the _hell_ just happened. 

 

His contemplative solitude was never to be. Muffet came in the house not five minutes after he did to find him sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees and staring a hole in the wall.

 

"Ah.... Dearie?"

 

"Muffet. What does it mean if you think about possibly.... Kissing.... A friend?"

 

All five of her eyes lit up. "You know, I believe there's a party soon, at Catty and Bratty's place. Perhaps that environment, plus a _touch_ of alcohol will be just the thing you need to figure it out." 

 

Grillby buried his face in his hands. He was screwed.

 

\-----

 

LittleMissMuffet88: Alright, dearie, I've guaranteed he'll be there. 

 

COOLSKELETON95: THANK YOU, MUFFET! I WILL TAKE CARE OF THE REST. BOTTLES WILL BE SPUN, ALCOHOL WILL BE DRANK, AND MY BROTHER WILL KISS HIS SMOKING CRUSH. HE IS NOT AS MUCH OF A DATING EXPERT AS MYSELF, SO HE NEEDS ALL THE HELP HE CAN GET.

 

LittleMissMuffet88: Now, my payment?

 

COOLSKELETON95: WINK

 

LittleMissMuffet88: Excuse me?

 

COOLSKELETON95: WINK

 

COOLSKELETON95: I AM WINKING BECAUSE I HAVE NO MONETARY PAYMENT FOR YOU BUT KNOWING THAT YOU HAVE HELPED FAN THE PASSIONATE FLAMES OF ROMANCE SHOULD BE PAYMENT ENOUGH!!!!!

 

LittleMissMuffet88: What.

 

COOLSKELETON95: OH LOOK AT THAT I MUST LEAVE NOW DEFINITELY BECAUSE I AM A VERY COOL VERY POPULAR VERY BUSY SKELETON AND NOT BECAUSE I AM MILDLY AFRAID OF YOU. GOODBYE MUFFET!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for the grayson, who inspired the table collapsing


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for alcohol my guys

Grillby was not a frequenter of parties. He had been to some, yes, but he was usually the one at the wall nursing a beer and enjoying the music.

 

Muffet, however, had already made it clear she would not allow that. She was the type to go to every party she was invited to, and a few she wasn't. When asked, she insisted it was simply because it was easier to swindle drunk people. Grillby was certain it was because she enjoyed the excuse to drink and kiss people.

 

When they arrived at Catty and Bratty's party, however, she seemed a bit more single-minded than normal. She snatched a bottle of coconut rum from a countertop, grabbed Grillby's arm, and dragged him towards the basement. Most people were already there, as Muffet had insisted on arriving fashionably late - though not quite as late as Mettaton. 

 

Undyne and Papyrus were arm wrestling and loudly debating who had bigger biceps - which was perplexing, as Papyrus had no muscles to speak of. Sans, Alphys, Catty, and Bratty were sitting in a small circle debating whether fries or tater tots were the superior potato based snack. Not-Burgerpants from the diner was sitting sullenly next to a vaguely familiar blue bunny, smoking a cigarette, while said bunny prattled on about one thing or another. They all looked up, however, when Muffet held up the bottle and crowed, "I have a present!"

 

As everyone collected in a ragged circle, Grillby leaned over to Burgerpants and the bunny. 

 

"Uh, sorry but," he said quietly, feeling awkward. "I don't know either of your names."

 

"Oh, that's alright!" said the bunny. "I'm Charles. That shirt looks great on you, by the way!"

 

_It's just a white button up with rolled up sleeves,_ he thought, but nodded graciously and turned to the second one.

 

"Craig," the cat mumbled, taking a drag on his cigarette and immediately choking. As Charles patted his back sympathetically, Grillby turned to the rest of the group. Muffet had popped open the rum, taking a swig and passing it on to the next person. Undyne, who had left a few moments ago, returned with a crate of water bottles. 

 

"Hydration is important!" she declared as she set it down. Everyone grabbed a bottle, as no one wanted to be without a chase. 

 

When the bottle got to Grillby, as he lifted it to his mouth, Muffet held up her hands. 

 

"Wait, wait everyone. Watch Grillby!"

 

With a grin, he took a larger swallow than he had originally planned to. If they wanted a show, who was he to argue?

 

His flame bloomed into purples and blues, flaring high and smelling strongly of coconut and alcohol. A wave of heat rolled through the room, and the burst of color slowly died back to his normal oranges and yellows. There was a smattering of applause as Grillby took a small bow, then passed the bottle on.

 

"Wait, so, like," Catty said. "How do you get drunk?"

 

"Do you even get drunk, like, at all?" asked Bratty.

 

"I do," answered Grillby. "It takes a little longer, but not unduly long."

 

Time passed like this for a while, with everyone chatting mindlessly about this and that. Everyone showered compliments on Alphys's new green dress, causing her already ruddy face to blush even harder. Mettaton showed up fashionably late as usual, immediately ready to be the center of attention. The bottle slowly emptied, and the group got louder and laughed more freely. 

 

Eventually, the rum was gone. Grillby started to stand to find something else for everyone to drink, until Muffet stopped him. 

 

"Grillby... Grillby wait," she said, in the over-enunciated way of someone trying very hard not to slur their words. "We should... we should play a game. A game. A bottle spinning game. A game of spin the kiss bottle. Kiss people game."

 

Mettaton gasped. "Yes let's absolutely do that I support that idea."

 

"Do I hafta kiss guys?" Undyne groaned.

 

Sans raised his hand. "Can we make a rule that I don't- don't have to kiss Pap. My bro. Papyrus because he's my brother."

 

"Sans! Of course not!" Papyrus shouted. His lack of volume control was even more pronounced. "Look, we can- we can just-" He leaned forward and nudged his skull against Sans's, much like a cat would. "S-see, it's fine."

 

Sans laughed. "Bro, you are so right."

 

"Let's, like, start!" Catty exclaimed, grabbing the bottle from Muffet. Muffet pouted, at least until the spin landed on her. Her sugary smile was quickly blocked by fur and whiskers as Catty grabbed her and kissed her, long and hard. After a few moments, they separated, both grinning. Alphys, who was sitting between them, was wide-eyed, blushing hard. 

 

"My turn!" crowed Bratty. She spun the bottle a little too enthusiastically, leaving an awkward pause as everyone watched it spin for a little too long. Finally, it slowed to stop on Mettaton. After taking a moment to squeal quietly with Catty, she leaned across the circle. Mettaton, running his hands down her hips, left featherlight kisses along her snout. Sans reached up and covered Papyrus's eyes, but Papyrus lifted his hand lowered it again, fascinated. Mettaton, with one last kiss on Bratty's nose, finally drew back. Bratty looked like she was just this side of swooning. Catty grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back into the circle, demanding every detail. 

 

Charles tried to hand the bottle to Craig, but he declined it.

 

"Kissing anyone here would just be leading me on," he said, world weary. "Besides," he added with a nervous grin. "I'd probably end up with another nickname, like, Burgerbreath or somethin'."

 

After giving him a comforting pat on the back, Charles leaned forward to spin the bottle himself. First, it landed on Craig, who had just backed out of the game. Craig smacked his face into his palms and groaned loudly. After a second spin, it landed on Papyrus, who whooped loudly. 

 

"Yes! Finally, the Great Papyrus can show off his impeccable romancing skills! Prepare yourself, for I shall-"

 

Charles cut him off, pressing his hands to Papyrus's cheekbones and his mouth to Papyrus's. The kiss was short and firm, and Charles smiled widely at Papyrus after he pulled away. Papyrus himself looked dazed, silent and almost shell shocked.

 

"You okay, bro?" Sans asked, patting his brother's femur.

 

"Y-yes! Definitely! Absolutely!"

 

Finally, it was Grillby's turn. He could see Sans lean forward a little as the bottle spun. Probably just adjusting himself in his seat. Definitely.

 

It slowed... slowed... and finally, stopped on Muffet. 

 

She grinned. "Honestly, I'm surprised we haven't kissed before now." She crawled across the circle and sat scant inches from Grillby. Tossing a pair of arms over his shoulders and wrapping another around his waist, she leaned up and pressed their mouths together.

 

He could feel her fangs lightly brush his lips as he kissed her, but there was no pain. Either she was supremely careful, or he was too drunk to feel any cuts. What he did feel, however, was her tongue, running softly against his bottom lip. 

 

He could see Sans out of the corner of his eye. His normal grin was in place, but his shoulders were hunched.

 

Holy hell, was Sans _jealous?_

 

No, there was no way, right? That would require Sans to like him like that in the first place, and there was no way that was true. Right?

 

Regardless, Grillby separated the kiss. It was Sans's turn, after all.

 

The bottle spun, and slowed. It looked for a moment that it would land on Charles, but it kept going and stopped... on Grillby. Was there a spark of blue there, or was that Grillby's imagination? 

 

He turned to his right. Sans seemed frozen, eyelights pinpricks. Grillby tapped him on the shoulder, which seemed to startle him back to reality. 

 

"Um, I, I was, uh, I'm gonna..." Sans mumbled. It was clear he wasn't going to make the first move, so Grillby took initiative. He rested his hands gently on Sans's jaw and kissed him, softly. His bone was cold against Grillby's fire, and Grillby relished it. He had wondered earlier that week what it would be like to kiss his best friend, and now he knew. 

 

It was _wonderful._ His flames brushing Sans's cheekbones, his hands running down to rest on Sans's shoulders, Sans's hands coming to lie on Grillby's hips, it all felt _right_ in a way little else did. It felt safe. 

 

"I-I think they passed the, um, 30 second limit," said Alphys in what was probably supposed to be a whisper. Undyne loudly shushed her. 

 

Slowly, reluctantly, Grillby pulled away. If he thought Sans looked shocked before, it was nothing compared to now. 

 

"Uh," Sans said. "Rad."

 

"Sans!" Papyrus shouted. "We go to all these lengths to get you to kiss Grillby, and all you have to say is _rad?!_ "

 

"I mean it was pretty- wait, what?"

 

But Papyrus was already taking his turn. Grillby tried to process what had just been said, but he was too dizzy from alcohol and kissing to really think. He almost missed the bottle landing square on Undyne, who shouted, "Fucking _finally!_ " before tackling Papyrus in an aggressive kiss. She surfaced after only a few moments, complaining loudly that of course her first kiss in this game was with a guy. 

 

On her turn, however, it landed on Alphys. 

 

Alphys squeaked and hid behind her tail. Undyne ran a hand against it softly, then inclined her head, silently asking permission. With her eyes shut tight, Alphys straightened to kiss Undyne. It was soft and incredibly gentle, as if both girls were hesitant to push the other too far. After a long moment, then slowly split apart. Their eyes stayed connected for another few moments, then they returned to their original spots, both blushing fiercely. 

 

Muffet took her turn, landing on Papyrus, and so the game continued. Catty and Bratty kissed, as did Charles and Grillby, and Mettaton and Sans. By the time everyone had kissed almost everyone else, the game had naturally slowed. Catty was dozing against Craig, and Alphys was asleep in Undyne's lap. Papyrus had wandered off to find more waters. Muffet and Sans were playing poker, and Grillby honestly wasn't sure who would win. Charles was cheerfully cleaning up the basement, ignoring Bratty's insistence that he didn't have to, and they could get it in the morning. 

 

Grillby kept catching himself staring at Sans. His mouth, his hands, his eyes. He could remember in perfect clarity those hands on his hips, that mouth on his own. All he could think about was how right it had felt, how easily Sans had fit in his arms, how perfect cool bone had felt against his fire.

 

Oh no. 

 

Staring hard at the ground, Grillby came to a realization.

 

He had a crush on Sans. His best friend since freshman year. A crush that probably wouldn't be reciprocated. Why would it be? Grillby was just... Grillby. He was just a guy who wanted to cook, who blended into crowds and never did much worth noticing, not until he started selling fries. Sans was funny, and popular, and well liked, and Grillby was just... average. 

 

Grillby shook his head, trying to bury those thoughts. A mistake in his drunken state, as he was immediately hit with a wave of dizziness. He allowed it to wash over him, leaning over to lie on the ground. 

 

_Well,_ he thought. _At least I probably won't remember this in the morning._

 

The next day dawned bright and early. Grillby, headache pounding behind his eyes, rolled over to press his aching head into the pillow that someone had put under him after he had fallen asleep. He remembered the entire night perfectly. 

 

Well, fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO WE HAVE FANART HELL YEAH  
> there's this awesome piece by sansful:  
> http://m-galovania.tumblr.com/post/140808660095/sansful-speakin-of-college-aus-this-fic-is  
> and this great one by demydems!!:  
> http://m-galovania.tumblr.com/post/141000179245/demydems-hey-guys-im-alive-sorry-for  
> remember, my url is m-galovania, so if you have any art for my fics or just wanna chat, let me know!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shopping is fun, especially when all your friends want to set you up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to begin by thanking you all so, so much for your support. I've deleted the chapter to maintain the flow of the story, but I've saved all of the emails with every comment. They've encouraged me so much that I've finished a chapter for both of my stories (though Hellfire still needs to be beta read). My schedule will still be fairly slow, but I do have a plan for the next few chapters! Thank you all so much <3
> 
> I feel like this chapter isn't up to my usual standard, so I apologize for that. I hope you enjoy regardless!

No one was surprised when Mettaton dragged them all to the mall a few days later. His performance was coming up, and he wanted everyone dressed nicely for it. However, he insisted he didn't trust their current wardrobes, or their fashion sense at all, and declared that he would be supervising purchases for the evening.

 

Sans was not pleased. He hated dressing up nice, and doing all this _work_ to get even more formal wear than he already had was even worse. He already had, like, _two_ whole dress shirts, and hell, his tuxedo t-shirt would probably be fine for this kind of thing anyway. But noooo, he had to go to the mall.

 

With Grillby.

 

And see Grillby in a bunch of fitted, dressy clothes.

 

Shit.

 

\--

 

When Sans and Alphys got to the mall, everyone else was already there. Grillby gave Sans a hesitant wave, which he returned. Alphys made some kind of noise that he ignored the implications of. Mettaton whisked them out of the food court and herded them into the nearest store. 

 

"Thank god," sighed Papyrus. "That place was almost as greasy as Grillby's satchel probably is!" 

 

Sans elbowed Papyrus, poker faced. 

 

"Sans! Why are you hitting me with your elbow?"

 

The group went from store to store as Mettaton browsed and the rest stood around kind of awkwardly, though Alphys was a little more used to it and Papyrus took to shopping well. One memorable hour was spent in a Victoria's Secret as Mettaton idly looked through lingerie and held up his favorites at the others. 

 

"Grillby, I really think this cat keyhole bra would look excellent with your physique."

 

Sans choked to the side, then attempted to cover it with a sudden coughing fit. Grillby blushed bright blue. 

 

"Alphys dear, this lace would frame your hips absolutely gorgeously. Undyne, wouldn't you agree?"

 

Alphys squealed and hit Mettaton's arm. 

 

"I... Uh, yeah. Sure would, MTT," Undyne stammered.

 

Eventually, Mettaton got bored of that particular torment. Instead, he dragged them off to try on all kinds of suits and dresses and the like. Every time someone thought they were finally finished, there he was with five more hangars and a lipstick smirk. 

 

Grillby and Alphys got the brunt of Mettaton's wrath, but no one was spared. Sans was sure he saw Grillby in every vest and tie combination in the store. All of them fit very well on Grillby's broad shoulders, much to Sans's dismay. Definitely dismay. Yep. (His favorite was a black button down paired with thin red suspenders and a skinny red tie.) From the way Undyne was blushing, she loved every dress that Alphys came out in, through she especially heaped praise on a backless black number with a flowing skirt. 

 

"Damn, Alphys, you're smokin'!" she exclaimed as soon as Alphys walked out of the changing room, then immediately flushed.

 

"Isn't that Sans's line?" asked Papyrus with a cackle. Mettaton only smirked and shoved more clothes at them. 

 

 _This is how I die,_ Sans thought. _Buried under suits. Tell my brother I love him._

 

Undyne wandered out of her stall looking mildly uncomfortable in a deep blue dress with more confusing straps than Sans had phalanges. As soon as she came out, Mettaton grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her right back in. Alphys, however, was starry-eyed.

 

"Nope! No, darling, you need a different dress. Maybe a suit. You need to look almost-but-not-quite-as gorgeous as me, and that dress just does _not_ do it."

 

"I-I think she looked, um, lovely," Alphys said, tearing her eyes away from the changing room door. 

 

Sans himself got a blue striped sundress at one point that he actually kind of liked. Mettaton, however, declared it didn't fit his planned "aesthetic" and shoved four more options into his arms, glancing in the mirror to make sure his lipstick was still intact.

 

Sans wondered absentmindedly how the hell he managed to get it to stay without the slightest smudge. What if it was, say, sharpie? He'd read about some girl using sharpies as eyeliner and got eye cancer or something. He considered telling Mettaton how _tumorous_ it would be of that happened to him, but decided that was in poor taste. 

 

Sans was so distracted, he barely noticed when Mettaton shoved him in a different changing room than the one he was originally in.

 

This one was in use.

 

This one was in use by someone who forgot to latch the door.

 

This one was in use by someone who was shirtless.

 

This one was in use by Grillby.

 

Sans was frozen. Grillby was clutching the shirt he was about to put on in one hand. 

 

 _Those wrinkles are never coming out,_ Sans thought, a little hysterically to ignore the very bright, prominent chest in front of him.

 

Grillby was muscular. How the _hell_ could fire be muscular? 

 

"Um," Sans said eloquently.

 

"Uh," Grillby replied, equally suave.

 

"I'm just gonna..." 

 

"........Okay."

 

Sans was sweating. A lot. Gross. It didn't help that the room had gotten about ten degrees hotter since he had walked in. 

 

Slowly, looking everywhere but Grillby, Sans backed out of the changing room. Grillby himself was stock still, still staring at him.

 

 _Remember that one time you made out with him?_ Sans's brain supplied unhelpfully.

 

Sans whirled around, grateful to be out of the dressing room, only to come face to face with four widely grinning faces.

 

The door had been open the whole time. They had seen everything. Goddammit.

 

Alphys opened her mouth, the only one there that Sans had told about his, uh, _interest_ in Grillby, only to audibly snap it shut with a glare from Sans.

 

He just saw Grillby shirtless. He needed to process this. 

 

"I'm just, uh, gonna," he started, trying to edge around the group. 

 

"Oh no you don't, _pal,_ " Undyne said, dragging him back. Her teeth were bared, and Sans couldn't tell if it was supposed to be encouraging or threatening.

 

"We're here to help you fan the _flames_ of love!" Papyrus declared. Sans hoped Grillby had shut the door at this point. And that the changing rooms were soundproofed. "And who better to learn from than the dating master?"

 

"Heheh, nice pun bro," Sans said weakly. 

 

"I though you would enjoy that, nyeh heh heh!"

 

"So can I-" 

 

"Absolutely not!" exclaimed Mettaton, grabbing him by the shoulders and steering him in to the nearest (empty) dressing room. "I refuse to leave until I find the perfect outfits for you." There was a determined glint in his eye, and Sans knew that the apocalypse could come and Mettaton still wouldn't let them leave until they reached the pinnacle of fashion.

 

Unfortunately, his tuxedo t-shirt wasn't gonna cut it.

 

It could have been hours later before Mettaton finally decided they were finished. Papyrus had insisted on a black skirt patterned with bright blue octopi, which Mettaton had somehow made work. Alphys had ended with her black dress and Grillby the red tie and suspenders. Undyne had found a black button down with a near-invisible pattern of deep blue arrows. She'd refused to wear anything with it besides her usual leather jacket and combat boots. Sans himself had grey slacks and a desaturated blue vest. They all had to pay for their own, as Mettaton couldn't cover it with his bemoaned lack of fame. 

 

"Eventually, beauties, I'll be able to buy all of the clothing in this store, in the whole mall, but that can't happen until the world sees me as the idol I really am!" His arms flew out to his sides dramatically. Grillby had to duck to avoid being smacked in the face, while Alphys walked under no problem. 

 

Before they split ways to go to their cars, Mettaton whirled to face them. His face might have been flushed with excitement had it not been, well, metal. 

 

"I'll see you all in two weeks' time for my starring role in Beauty and the Beast! I've already reserved your tickets, so I _will_ see you all there." He had a dangerous smile, and Sans didn't want to think about what would happen if he didn't show up.

 

Alphys had grinned wider and wider as she and Sans walked to their hideous minivan. As soon as the door shut he braced himself, and not a second too soon.

 

" _Saaaaaaaaaans_ ohmygod you walked on him changing and he was blushing so hard and so were you what did he look like was he hot of course he was he's fire he works out with Undyne every once in a while so is he bara how can fire be bara he pulls it off somehow I _can't believe_ -" 

 

"Alphys," Sans cut her off. 

 

She took a moment to breath as they pulled out of the parking lot. After a minute, she looked at him slyly out of the corner of her eye. 

 

"Was he h-hot?"

 

Sans pulled the drawstrings of his hoodie to hide his face. "Very."

 

Alphys's squeals didn't stop for the whole drive home.

 

\--

 

Grillby was not unused to coming in the door with shopping bags. Two culinary majors with a fairly nice kitchen for their budget had to go grocery shopping quite a bit, and Grillby had become quite skilled at carrying in all the bags in one trip, along with not heating any of the food. Muffet had an unfair advantage in both regards.

 

What he was unused to, however, was the shopping bags being full of clothes rather than food. While they were out he had realized that he hadn't gone clothes shopping in quite a while, so he took the opportunity to shop around. It was coming back to bite him in the ass, however, as that meant Muffet was going to interrogate him about what had happened that day. He was a creature of habit, so she was always intrigued by breaks in those habits.

 

"How has your day been, dearie?" she asked. Code for, _If there's gossip I want it and I want it now._

 

"Sans saw me shirtless," he blurted without thinking. 

 

Now, Grillby was not an easily frightened person. He'd stood up to all kinds of things (including finals week, and one memorable evening with Sans, Professor Asgore, a Bunsen burner, and hamster: Toriel had taken the hamster, but Asgore's sweater would never be the same), and trusted his fire magic to keep him safe against the worst of trials. However, the smile that crept across Muffet's face scared him more than even Professor River on a bad day.

 

"Oh, dear," she cooed. "It seems like you're going to need my help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> muffet what the hell r u planning


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, you need help to shove your friends into their dream relationship. Sometimes, that help comes in the form of three kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ones a little short by I'm pretty proud of it!

Grillby was not easily scared. Muffet, however, was scary. Muffet and Mettaton planning together was even more so. 

 

"Alright beauties, I have ten minutes before rehearsal and mountains of homework, so talk quickly."

 

Muffet grinned, showing her fangs. "I'm sure you understand that this is a serious matter, dearie. Grillby likes Sans. I need you to find out if Sans feels the same. He's roommates with Alphys, yes? Try and get it out of her. She'll have at least some idea, hopefully."

 

Grillby buried his face in his hands. What was this, middle school? Next thing he knew, he'd be forced to write Sans notes and slip them to him in French class.

 

Dear Sans, 

I like you. Do you like me?

[ ] Yes  
[ ] No  
[ ] Maybe

Love,  
Grillby

 

There was no way they'd make him. Right?

 

"Well personally," Mettaton said, checking his manicure, "I find love letters to be absolutely darling. Perhaps he could write one? Add some rose perfume?"

 

Huh. Seemed he was wrong. 

 

Muffet's brow was furrowed. Considering. 

 

"...Perhaps. Your production is in a week's time, yes? Sans can sit next to Grillby, we'll arrange it so they're together. That's when Grillby can give Sans the letter."

 

Mettaton clapped his hands together, grinning. "That sounds perfect, gorgeous! Now, I really need to run. I'd better see sparks fly on and off stage, lovelies!" He strutted off, long sheer skirt flowing behind him.

 

Muffet rubbed her many hands together gleefully. Grillby, who had yet to lift his head from his palms, groaned.

 

\---

 

Every Wednesday, the only day they all ate at the same time, whenever they were all free, everyone met for lunch. The warm, still slightly watery April sun streamed onto the quad, making it the perfect day for a picnic. 

 

"Mrs. Dreemurr?" asked Grillby, poking his head into Toriel's classroom. "Do you have any blankets we could use to eat outside?" He already knew she would, she was always prepared for things like this.

 

"Of course, young one!" she replied, immediately going to rummage in a closet near her desk. Pulling out a massive, neatly folded purple one, she turned back to him. Before handing it over, however, she paused. 

 

"If you are going to have lunch outside, could you do me a favor? My youngest, Frisk, does not have school today due to a teacher work day, but I am afraid my classroom is not very exciting. Could you take them with you outside? I am sure Undyne, Mettaton, and Papyrus in particular can entertain easily." A tiny kid almost drowning their blue and purple sweater wandered up, looking faintly bored. 

 

"Of course, Mrs. Dreemurr. Thank you for the blanket." Grillby smiled, but he wasn't sure either of them were familiar enough with his expressions to be able to tell. 

 

On their way out, Frisk slipped their hand into Grillby's own. They must be brave, or at least familiar with fire magic. Most humans, and even some fleshy monsters were afraid to touch him.

 

Outside, Undyne and Papyrus had already started up a game of full tackle frisbee. The rules seemed... tenuous. Sans was digging through a picnic basket that had presumably been packed by Papyrus, and Alphys was curled up under an umbrella with her phone. Mettaton had draped himself over the grass in a way he probably thought was enticing, but mostly looked uncomfortable. 

 

"Heya, Grillbz!" Sans called when he caught sight of Grillby. "Who's the squirt?"

 

"Frisk Dreemurr," Grillby replied, unfolding the blanket. "Mrs. Dreemurr has asked me to watch them today."

 

Frisk's hands were suddenly in a flurry of movement, brow furrowed. Sans responded in kind as soon as they finished. Grillby had no idea what was going on.

 

"Oh, uh, sorry. They were asking if anyone knew sign," Sans said, noticing Grillby's confusion. "I'm fluent, Papyrus knows some. No idea about the rest of you jackasses." 

 

Grillby gaped at Sans. Did he just curse in front of a child? The child in question was in a fit of giggles. They couldn't have been more than eleven. Frisk signed quickly at Sans, who translated for Grillby's benefit.

 

"They said it was fine, their older sibling swears all the time. Apparently not in front of their mom, though."

 

"I should hope not, I don't even want to think about her reaction. She's scandalized whenever any of her students do, never mind her own children."

 

Sans laughed. "Well, kinda helps that she thinks of us as her kids too." Frisk nodded profusely at that. She must talk about her students at home, which was sweet.

 

"Frisk says that she was pretty ready to wash out Asgore's mouth when he said 'fuck' one time after dropping a mug." 

 

Undyne and Papyrus finally elected to sit with the rest of them, more out of hunger than exhaustion. Papyrus was covered in spiderwebs of minuscule cracks that were skeletal version of bruises and Undyne was holding her arm oddly, but both had blinding grins. Apparently tackle frisbee was a dangerous sport.

 

They all gathered on the blanket to eat, relaxing in the warm, golden sunshine. The sky seemed especially bright, the grass especially green. A soft breeze danced through and encouraged Grillby's flame higher. It was a gorgeous day. Fresh cucumber sandwiches (sanswiches, Sans claimed) and perfectly breaded onion rings were set out.

 

Grillby settled next to Sans and quietly listened to a joke told just for him. Moments of calm were rare on campus, and he wanted to enjoy them for all they were worth. He focused intently on the sunshine, the wind, the laughter in the background, and intensely ignored the fact that Sans's hand was mere millimeters from his own.

 

\---

 

Frisk liked to think they were a pretty smart kid. They got good grades, did their homework (when it interested them), and they had two pretty smart siblings, so they were probably pretty smart. They liked science, and math sometimes. What their true interest was in, however, was people's lives. More specifically, their relationships.

 

It had started as a way to entertain themself. They didn't like to stay at home much before they were adopted, so they'd go into the city often and people watch. It actually became pretty easy to notice once they'd had some practice. The way hands touched, how people would look at each other when they thought the other person wasn't looking. Each tiny movement told a story, as long as you knew where to look.

 

Frisk had the practice. They were observant, and they were smart. All of these things made it pretty easy to tell that most of the people in the circle around them were Super Fucking Gay.

 

Take the fish girl and the lizard girl (Undyne and Alphys, if they'd heard right?) for example. Alphys was rambling on about some shipping war she was deeply engaged in, and Undyne was hooked on her every word. She also touched Alphys pretty freely, tossing an arm around her shoulder or resting a hand on her leg every chance she got. Alphys blushed like crazy every time she did. Honestly, Frisk was confused by how they _weren't_ together yet. 

 

That wasn't the only couple that still had yet to get together. Grillby and the skeleton next to him, Sans, were _this close_ to holding hands, and they were just sitting and soaking up sunshine together. So gay. 

 

Frisk would have left well enough alone (probably), had someone not come to them for help: a loud clatter, and Papyrus sat abruptly next to them. 

 

"Can I confide something in you, tiny human?" he asked. 

 

They nodded. 

 

"I am, quite honestly, frustrated with my brother. He very, very obviously likes Grillby, but he refuses to say anything! Apparently, he 'doesn't want to mess up their friendship,' but it's very obvious that Grillby shares his feelings!" Papyrus sighed heavily, the sound whistling through his skull. "We have tried over and over to fan the flames - nyeh heh heh - of passion, and with my skills as a dating master, I should be able to do it! We tried at the party, we tried at the mall, and now Muffet and Mettaton and trying something with a letter that I honestly don't have high hopes for. I'll keep trying, of course! I can do it!"

 

Frisk signed slowly. _'Do you want some help?'_

 

Papyrus squinted doubtfully. "While I appreciate the offer, do you have experience in the complicated realm of romance? You are very small."

 

_'Trust me, I'm a dating master. Plus, I'm gonna get my siblings to help. There's no way they'll come out of this not dating! Undyne and Alphys are gonna get together too, I'll make sure of it.'_

 

"Well, tiny human, I believe in you!" He stood, shouting his passion to the heavens. "Together, we will create a blazing bonfire of love, and be ready with a fire extinguisher just in case, because we support fire safety!" 

 

Undyne leapt to her feet, teeth bared in a grin. 

 

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Papyrus, but I SUPPORT YOU!" She grabbed him around the waist and gave him a gentle friendliness suplex, Papyrus shrieking all the while. 

 

Frisk, meanwhile, was busy texting.

 

**To: FlowerCrowned, GoatBoy**

**FriskyBits:** ok I know you're at school but hear me out - there's a romantic crisis

 **FlowerCrowned:** omw

 **GoatBoy:** But Chara, we're in math class! Also Frisk, am I still GoatBoy in your phone???

 **FlowerCrowned:** cmon goatboy this is serious business fuck geometry

 **GoatBoy:** ]:( I wanted to be djfdhhwkwjd

 **GoatBoy:** this is chara i stole his phone and also him we'll be there soon

 **FriskyBits:** ok see you soon!

 **GoatBoy:** I got my phone back!! Also if Mom sees us at EU she'll kill us.

 **FlowerCrowned:** what mom doesn't know won't hurt her this is serious business

 **FriskyBits:** goatboy

 **GoatBoy:** ]:(

 **FriskyBits:** //deep sigh

 **FriskyBits:** asriel

 **GoatBoy:** ]:)

 **FriskyBits:** we have two whole couples to set up, and I need your guys's help

 **GoatBoy:** I dunno if I can afford to miss AP World.....

 **FriskyBits:** I'll do all your chores for the next week

 **GoatBoy:** Two weeks!!!

 **FriskyBits:** deal

 **FlowerCrowned:** i got us bikes

 **GoatBoy:** Where did you get those????

 **FlowerCrowned:** doesn't matter gotta go we'll put them back later but this is important

 **GoatBoy:** CHARA!!!!

 **FlowerCrowned:** we'll be there in fifteen minutes

 **FriskyBits:** isn't it only a five minute bike ride??

 **FlowerCrowned:** gotta give me time to wrangle him onto a bike. duct tape may be involved

 **GoatBoy:** CHARA DUCT TAPE STICKS TO MY FUR YOU KNOW THAT THRIWNAHIR

 **GoatBoy:** i stole his phone again

 **GoatBoy:** be there soon

Frisk turned off their phone with a grin. The cavalry was coming, and no potential couple was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing these kids why haven't I done it before


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (งツ)ว

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd explain the delay but I really have no excuse

Four unsuspecting people. Three children busily planning to couple them up. Two others, working together on their own attempt.One skeleton, having set the whole thing in motion. 

 

Papyrus was allowed to be frustrated. He was a dating master, so to see his brother and best friend only watch their loves from afar, well, how could he not do something about it?

 

Luckily, he seemed to have found a few other, admittedly very short, masters. One of them kept winking at him? And they were even wearing clothes! And a ribbon in their hair! He'd have to set up a date later, just to humor them. Until then, he had a couple other dates to plan!

 

"I don't think mom will find us here," said Chara, peeking over a hedge to get a glimpse of their surroundings. They were next to one of the science buildings, in a few bushes.

 

"I sure hope not," said Asriel, twisting the hem of his sweater. "This'll be the third time we skipped math class! Did you even make an excuse, or is she gonna get a phone call later?"

 

Chara scoffed. "Do I look like an amateur to you? No, I called the main office." They adopted a scarily good impression of Toriel. "Excuse me, this is Mrs. Dreemurr. My children, Chara and Asriel, must leave school for an important family reason. If you do not know, Chara is the is the absolutely radiant one, and Asriel is the one that smells like butts."

 

"Hey!" Asriel shoved Chara, who collapsed laughing into the mulch. "I do not smell like butts! Anyway, you suck at video games, so your opinion doesn't even count."

 

Chara sat up sharply, ready to retort until Frisk shoved their way in between the two.  
_'I don't know about you guys, but I'd like to actually get some plans drawn up before a million years from now! Besides, I don't want to keep this particularly handsome skeleton waiting,'_ Another wink. Papyrus was flustered.

 

"We can date later!" he said. "Until then, we have to get other couples to recognize the true depths of their passion for each other!"

 

Frisk pounded a fist into their palm. _'Right! I have a plan.'_

 

Asriel buried his face in his hands. "Oh man. Of course you do. If any of this is like last time, I'm leaving! I'm pretty sure there's still feathers in my backpack and it's really annoying!"

 

"Calm down, Azzy," Chara snickered, lightly pushing his shoulder. "The feathers make your backpack as fuzzy as you, so it's fine."

 

_'Anyway, neither of my plans involve feathers!'_ Frisk grinned. _'But we have to go to the garbage dump.'_

 

"The garbage dump?" Papyrus asked curiously. "No matter how much Alphys insists she is garbage, I promise she is only a lizard! She looks nothing like my garbage can, whose name is Trashy."

 

_'No, no, I know that! She likes the dump though, from what I overheard at the picnic, so I'll take her there with me. Then, we're gonna roleplay.'_

 

Chara's eyes got wide, and they grinned. "Hell. Yes."

 

"Undyne did say that's where they first met," Papyrus said thoughtfully. "As her best and also most handsome friend, I know these things."

 

Frisk's nodded excitedly. _'That's even better. Chara, Asriel, I need you two to get Undyne to the dump so she can overhear us. I don't think it'll be too hard to get her to the point where she's overexcited and going on and on about how much she loves Undyne, so then Undyne just needs to hear that bit, then they'll both confess and be in love and all that.'_

 

"But my brother and Grillby?"

 

Their grin was positively evil now. _'This one is a stroke of genius._ Everyone shuffled in closer as Frisk begin to whisper their plot.

 

\--

 

"......You want me to what?"

 

"Give this to Sans! We did say that you'd deliver a love letter, didn't we, beauty?" Mettaton smirked at Grillby. 

 

Muffet patted Grillby’s arm. “You’ll be sitting next to him at the show tonight, of course.”

 

Grillby bit back a groan. “Of course.”

 

“Don’t tell me you don’t want to sit with him, gorgeous?”

 

“Well,” Grillby replied shortly, “I’d prefer if we weren’t shoehorned into a myriad of meet-cutes, and possible relationship was allowed to develop naturally!”

 

Muffet blinked. Mettaton looked offended. 

 

“Darling, if we allowed this to _develop naturally_ , nothing would ever happen! You two would just dance around each other, both too fearful of rejection to ever do anything!”

 

“Honestly, dear,” Muffet interjected, finding her voice. “We’re doing you both a service.” 

 

Grillby stared at them both before taking the letter from Mettaton. “Do I even want to know the amount of purple prose in this?”

 

“Purple enough to blend with my skin, dearie!” Muffet giggled. “Now, go get ready for the show, you only have three hours!”

 

Only three hours. How could he _ever_ be prepared in time?

 

Grillby stared at the envelope in his palm as he walked home. A large part of him wanted to burn it up right then and there, and save himself the embarrassment. Another part of him, however, was curious. What if it worked?

 

He internally scoffed. There was no way.

 

In the distance, he could see Frisk dragging Alphys by the hand to the back of campus. There were certainly shenanigans to be had there, but he didn't have the energy to intervene. He could only hope they wouldn’t destroy anything.

 

With any luck, the show tonight wouldn’t be too torturous.

 

\--

 

Three hours seemed to move both quickly and far too slowly, as anticipation built like the crest of a rollercoaster. It was short work to pull on the outfit that Mettaton had near-forced him to buy, and he was ready to go by the time seven o’clock came around. 

 

The school theater, while somewhat lackluster, was clean and well-kept. Plush, slightly worn seats, thin but clean carpets, and surprisingly good acoustics came together to form an old theater full of students dedicated to its care. 

 

Grillby and Muffet arrived a few minutes after everyone else. They had fairly good seats, a few rows back and somewhat to the side, but with a nice view of most of the stage. 

 

Undyne and Alphys were holding hands. That was new.

 

Muffet took the seat on Alphys’s other side, leaving the only seat left… next to Sans. Shocker.

 

He sat without saying anything, desperately trying to think of something to say that wasn’t horrendously awkward. 

 

“So,” Sans said.

 

“….Yes,” said Grillby.

 

This was hell. This was hell and Grillby was in it. Luckily, he was saved from any stilted attempts at conversation by the lights dimming. He did his best to dim his own light along with it, and was mostly successful. He didn’t want to ruin anyone’s experience, even though he probably wouldn’t be paying much attention.

 

The show was lovely, of course. Mettaton performed the role of the Beast well, and he certainly had stage presence in spades. His broad motions and aggressive character voice brought to life the role of a selfish, lonely prince. It was hard to pay attention, though. Sans's hand was mere inches from Grillby's own. It would be a simple matter just to grab it, or stretch and wrap his arm around Sans's shoulders. He could do it. He was going to do it. In three... Two... One and a half...

 

Oh, who was he kidding? He was a coward. He wasn't going to.

 

The letter felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. If he couldn't act himself, maybe written word could do it.

 

His hand twitched towards his pocket but he stopped. _It's deceptive,_ he told himself. _It's not my own words._ He could feel frustration with himself mounting. He just had to do it. It would be easy. He just had to _do it._

 

That, itself, was the problem. He couldn't. 

 

The rest of the first act passed by in a daze. At intermission, as soon as the lights rose he all but ran out of his seat to outside. The fresh air.

 

Outside were a few familiar faces. 

 

_’Grillby!’_ signed Frisk frantically, racing up to him. They stumbled in their excitement and fell against Grillby. Two other children trailed slightly behind. 

 

"Be careful, Frisk. ...May I ask who these two are?"

 

_’Oh! This is my brother and sibling, Asriel and Chara,’_ they said. Asriel waved a little, Chara made a quiet _tch_ sound. 

 

"...What are you all doing here? Where are your parents?"

 

"Mom and dad don't know we're here," said Asriel, slightly nervous. 

 

"Yeah," added Chara, "And it's gotta stay that way."

 

Grillby paused. "Your secret is safe with me, I suppose. Why did you come here?"

 

Frisk stuffed their hand into the pocket of their shorts and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. _’You gotta read this to Sans!’_

 

"Another letter?" Grillby sighed. 

 

"No, it's- wait, _another?_ " Chara held out their hand. "Lemme see."

 

Grillby pulled the pastel pink envelope out of his back pocket. "Muffet and Mettaton gave this to me to give to him," he explained as he handed it over.

 

There was a brief tussle between the three children over who got to hold it, ending with Asriel in the middle and Frisk and Chara peeking over his shoulder. 

 

Asriel broke the seal, and the scent of roses and jasmine washed out. Chara gagged theatrically. They recovered quickly, however, standing on tiptoes to peer over Asriel's shoulder once more.

 

None of them read aloud, but their reactions were tell enough. Asriel clapped his hand to his mouth, Frisk looked delighted, and Chara was in tears from laughter.

 

"...I haven't read it myself," Grillby said, a touch defensive.

 

"Don't," said Asriel.

 

"Please do. And give it to Sans. And take a picture of his face," said Chara.

 

Frisk poked them hard in the arm. _’It took us ages to do ours, so that's the one Grillby's gonna use!’_

 

Grillby sighed. "Perhaps."

 

_’No! No 'perhaps' about this! You're gonna go to his house after the show, and you're gonna get him to come outside, and you're gonna read that letter! And then you're gonna play a song for him and kiss a bunch and whatever.’_ They grabbed him by the tie and yanked him down to eye level. Then they had to let go so they could keep signing. Grillby stayed obligingly hunched over. _’And so help me, if you don't do this, I'm gonna lock you both in a room and not let you out until you finally talk to each other!’_

 

"They'll do it," Chara said. Asriel nodded solemnly.

 

"...I believe it. So, what exactly do you want me to do?" 

 

Frisk's naturally flat expression split into a wide grin. _’First, you gotta be in that outfit.’_

 

\--

 

The rest of the production seemed to move through molasses. Grillby wanted to get invested in the plight of the fading rose, the fierce battle between Gaston and the Beast, the confession of love between Belle and the newly transformed prince. 

 

A terrifying beast and a beautiful princess. It was like a metaphor for his relationship with Sans.

 

Who was the beast and who was the princess? Or was it more metaphorical than that? The beast of his indecision versus the beauty of love? The terrible nature of exams coupled with the wonder of study dates?

 

He really should not have gone to that literary analysis lecture.

 

Oh thank god, it was curtain call. Wait. Was that a good thing? That meant he'd have to put the plan into action - a plan concocted by children, no less. Based on how they had reacted to the first letter, however, it wasn't any better. He still hadn't been brave enough to read it.

 

People were standing. The lights had come up. Oh no.

 

"Good show, huh?" Sans asked, turning towards Grillby. He nodded shortly. 

 

"Uh... You okay there, buddy?"

 

"Fine." Grillby's mind decided this was the perfect time to remind him of when the two had kissed. He felt his flames grow hotter.

 

Sans looked at him a little hesitantly. "Okay. I'm gonna head out, then. See ya, I guess." 

 

It wasn't after Sans had walked off that Grillby realized he had kind of been an ass. Shit. He hoped Sans didn't think he was upset with him or anything. _Hi Sans I know you think I'm irritated with you for some reason but I'm here to confess my undying love._ That'd go over well.

 

Welp! Looked like he couldn't do it tonight! Time to go home and curl up in bed and never leave it ever. 

 

He had just left the theater, glad that most everyone else was staying behind to congratulate Mettaton, when someone caught his sleeve. It was Frisk, looking peeved. Chara and Asriel were playing some sort of handheld game together, ignoring the world around them.

 

_’What are you doing, dummy? Sans's house is that way!’_

 

"I... um." Grillby cleared his throat. "I was taking the scenic route."

 

Frisk gave him a long look. Their flat, disbelieving expression said it all. 

 

"I... forgot something at my house?"

 

_’All you need is the letter. The speakers will be provided!’_

 

"Oh my god, he's chickening out!" said Chara as they came up behind Frisk. Behind them, Asriel was complaining that they'd abandoned their game.

 

"I am not!" Grillby defended. "I'm just... waiting for the right time." 

 

_’There's no time like the present! Anyway I got away with stealing Dad's speakers once, I don't know if I could do it again. Now or never!’_

 

"But... I think Sans thinks I'm mad at him," he said sheepishly. 

 

Asriel nodded in understanding, but Chara laughed, loudly. He couldn't believe he was getting made fun of by a high school freshman.

 

Frisk smacked their palms to their face. _Well, this'll prove that wrong then! C'mon, Grillby, you just gotta-’_

" _Where_ in the _world_ have you three been?" 

 

Frisk, Chara, and Asriel's heads all whipped around as one. It was Toriel, marching up the street with the kind of anger only a concerned mother could wield. Asgore trailed behind her, ready to diffuse the situation.

 

Asriel groaned. "We are _definitely_ grounded."

 

Chara grabbed Asriel and Frisk's hands. "We gotta run. We're homeless now. Time to go to the next state." 

 

As they yanked their siblings off, Frisk managed to sign a few words back.

 

_’Go do it, Grillby!’_

 

He sighed. It was their last words before the grounding of a lifetime. He pretty much had to. 

 

Asgore slowed to a stop beside Grillby. 

 

"Please don't tell me they were trying to set you up with someone."

 

"They were. If I'm not wrong, they already successfully got one couple together."

 

Asgore sighed. "I love those kids, but I swear, as soon as they get an idea in their heads they can't stop until it's done. The house was a wreck for a month when they decided they liked pillow forts."

 

"Asgore!" called Toriel. She looked more exasperated than angry now.

 

"Coming, darling!" He left Grillby and went to join his wife. They gently nuzzled noses, then went to follow their energetic family. 

 

Their relationship was sweet. Kind of sappy, sometimes overbearing, but sweet. They were like parents to the whole campus. Seeing them, happy and in love after so many years, well. It filled Grillby with determination. 

 

And apprehension. And fear. If this didn't work, he was about to look like the biggest idiot. 

 

_Don't think about that,_ he told himself as he began the trek to Sans and Alphys's house. _Think about anything else._

 

It was night. The streetlights were flickering, and the stars shine brightly overhead. Space was nice, he supposed, but he didn't like it as much as Sans did. Once, he had mentioned something about Venus being particularly bright one night, and Sans had gone off on a long-winded explanation of Venus, and it's atmosphere, and the possibility of living there, and it's space in the night sky, and surrounding constellations, and-

 

Grillby was smiling fondly. Dammit.

 

Not Sans. Don't think about Sans. Think about... cooking. Recipes to try. That led to selling recipes, which led to how many baskets of fries he owed Sans, which led to one time when Sans had gotten his fries to stack in a tower over a foot high (probably with the help of magic), which led to-

 

Shit. 

 

Luckily, he had already arrived at Sans's house. He thought about what Frisk had said to do.

 

_First, get Sans to open a window. Not the door or anything. The window. It's more romantic or whatever._

 

He could call Sans's name, or throw pebbles at the glass. Instead, he pulled out his phone.

 

_To: Sans_

_From: Grillby_

_Can you come to the window? The front one, on the left side. Er, your right._

 

_To: grillbz_

_From: Sans_

_why tho_

 

_To: Sans_

_From: Grillby_

_Please._

 

_To: grillbz_

_From: Sans_

_lmao ok???_

 

As Grillby waited, he pulled up a particular YouTube video, and noted the blue speakers in the grass near him. Apprehension buzzed through his fingers and he felt lightheaded.

 

The window pushed up. "Uhh.... 'Sup, Grillbz?" Sans said.

 

"Um." 

 

_Then, read the paper._

 

The paper! Right, the paper. 

 

"One moment," Grillby said back as he fumbled it out of his pocket. He smoothed it out, and with a cough, began to read.

 

"When I'm near you, I undergo anaerobic respiration."

 

"...What?"

 

"You take my breath away."

 

Sans was sitting on the windowsill now, clearly confused. "What."

 

"Do you have eleven protons? Because you're sodium fine."

 

Sans was laughing a little now. "Stop oh my god."

 

"If I was an enzyme, I'd be a DNA helicase so I could unzip your genes - wait, what?"

 

Sans was full-on laughing now. "Holy shit, where did you find these."

 

"Why don't we measure the coefficient of... static friction between me and you?"

 

Sans laughed harder. And fell out of the windowsill. And came up, still laughing. He picked himself up and came over to Grillby, not bothering to brush off the dirt. 

 

"Buddy, I appreciate the jokes, but why wake me up for them?"

 

"Because... They're true, I guess."

 

"I-"

 

"Wait, I'm not done."

 

_After the jokes, play the song._

 

He quickly plugged the speakers into the phone, and hit play. Familiar synth beats filled the lawn.

 

Horror dawned on Sans's face. "No."

 

Grillby grinned as the lyrics started. "Yes."

 

_We're no strangers to love,_

_You know the rules, and so do I._

 

"You dare-"

 

Grillby was laughing at Sans's outraged expression.

 

"In my own home-"

 

His own face was cracking, a grin working its way forward.

 

" _Rickroll_ me-"

 

"Actually pay attention to the lyrics."

 

_Never gonna give you up_

_Never gonna let you down_

_Never gonna run around_

_And hurt you._

 

Sans tilted his head. His smile had turned confused, like he knew what was happening but didn't understand why. "What is all this, Grillby?"

 

"I... I like you a lot, Sans. I want to, um, date you?" Grillby cringed. He sounded like a middle schooler. 

 

"Okay."

 

"...Is that a yes?"

 

"Well, you used puns and frankly ancient memes." Sans pretended to wipe away a tear. "You truly know the way to my heart."

 

"Well, it wasn't just-"

 

"Shut up and kiss me, Grillbert." 

 

He grabbed Grillby by the tie and pulled him down, but Grillby stopped. He saw something moving in the window. "Is that... a phone? Is someone recording us?"

 

Sans didn't even turn around. "Go to bed, Alphys."

 

With a quiet "eep!" the phone vanished. 

 

That settled, Sans pulled Grillby down again. 

 

"Just gotta treat me gently, Grillby," he whispered. "I've been burned before."

 

_Finally, smooch him! Right on the mouth!_

 

They kissed to Rick Astley crooning about how he would never give them up. 

 

\--

 

Grillby was walking home. Leaving had been more than a little awkward. 

 

_"Well, um, I should head home."_

 

_"Okay."_

 

_"See you tomorrow."_

 

_"Okay."_

 

And so Grillby had left, still lightheaded, but this time from happiness rather than nerves. 

 

He felt something in his back pocket. It was the letter from earlier. He opened it, still slightly curious.

 

_Dearest Sans,_

_Have I ever told you how I burn for you? Pardon the pun, but my love can only be described as a fire, flames of passion burning ever hotter, all for you._

_I dream of a night together. Candles, roses, soft music. The best night of both of our lives, spent in each other's arms. I desire you, long for you to-_

 

He left the letter behind to burn to ash on the sidewalk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just because they're together, that doesn't mean the story is over! there's still plenty of shenanigans to be had

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I have a vague idea of some things I want to happen, but there's a lot of stuff that is open. Feel free to send suggestions!


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